A Troubled Heart
by escapistone
Summary: Eowyn meets Faramir at the houses of healing FE AU Movie Verse COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Okay, Technically AU, because 1. I'm going more from the movie as far as Eowyn's fight with the Witch King goes, And 2. I'm on vacation right now and don't have my ROTK with me. Therefore, I am taking the easy way out and crying "AU"

If memory serves correct, Faramir and Eowyn started their romance before the Ring was destroyed. This is set as their first meeting in the houses of healing. 

All characters, etc Belong to Tolkien, his estate, and New Line Cinema.

They have not sanctioned this work. All characters etc are used for amusement purposes. I am not making any money off of this.

BTW: I'm having a terrible time getting the expression mark over Eowyn's name, so you're going to have to live without it.

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With a gasp of pain, Eowyn stood. Whether it was from the pain of her battle or the pain of the death of her uncle, she did not know. Though, she did suspect it was the former. Pain of battle would get better so long as she kept living, but to lose her uncle, that was a blow she felt more keenly.

Always had she been drawn to fight. Her love of country was stronger than many who dwelled so prominently in Rohan's army. Yet, she had been denied the ultimate expression of her love again and again, until she ultimately forsook the wishes and traditions of her lord and country. She mused on that thought as she slid quietly through the halls of healing.

Many in her position would regret the choice to ever venture into such a horrendous battle. But, she did not. True, her imagination had envisioned but a tenth of the true gruesomeness that she had seen, yet for all the horror, and all the pain she would not change what she had done. 

It was not only the defeat of the Nazgul that made her feel this way. For what many would no doubt laud as a true show of courage, she did not think any more of herself than any man who had fought beside her. She had aided the defeat of one strong foe, but she would not have been able to defeat that monstrosity if she had not been aided by the men that fought the surrounding Orcs. Nor would she have been able to fight such a fight had Merry not been there to aid her. 

No. She could not claim such a fight as her own, so how could she name that as her reason for not regretting her choice to join the battle?

Perhaps it was because she was as much a warrior at heart as her brother was. Love of country was not supposed to be reflected in a lady's heart as it was in a man's, yet she had never been able to consign herself to such strictness that was required. 

Perhaps it was her sense of justice. Was she to allow others to constantly die in her stead? Who was she to watch as countless men warred while she sat and fretted. If she could heft her own blade, why should she make another fell the enemy for her? Should she not help her fellow man by easing his burden by taking on her own?

Perhaps it was all of those things, perhaps it was none. It did not truly matter. She had done what she had done. And she did not regret it. She regretted certain actions in battle, no doubt. There would always be the lingering uncertainty that she could have done something different and saved her uncle's life. Such doubts were a normal part of life. She was no fool to believe otherwise.

With half-lidded eyes, she looked up at the sky as she slipped out of the door. It gave no comfort to her, nor her restless mind. In truth, she had finally fulfilled the incessant yearning that she prove herself. She had joined the troops as she had always known she should. Her feats in battle had been courageous. 

Yet, to her misery, she had found that it had not fulfilled her. Yes, it had taken away much of the longing that had plagued her life, but it had left in its stead a more subtle longing that she had not known was there.

A simpleton she was not. She knew it had existed for a long time. It was only more plain now that she had fulfilled the destiny that she knew was hers to claim.

Her love for her country had been absolute. Yet, what she yearned for was to love and be loved. To share her life with another. But to go that way was folly. No man would ever allow his wife to live with such a warrior's spirit.

Ladies were to be soft and gentle. They were to sooth the souls of their mates, not set them ablaze.

She had found a man who would accept her as she was, but Aragorn's heart was already taken, and in truth, she was not certain that he was truly the one man who she could love. Oh, she thought he was the perfect solution. Here was a man who would not balk at the thoughts that ran through her head. He was strong and had a good heart, a good mind. But, even though she thought herself in love, she knew she was not. She was more in love with hoping he was the right man for her.

Yet, that still left her with a problem. Would she ever find a mate who would love her both as his wife and a warrior? Or would she be forever condemned to choose between two loves?

"Such a solemn look you have. What pain brings you to look so offended at the very stars? Granted a dark cloud still hangs, yet should not you still be glad that you live to see?"

Eowyn turned a little to her left to see a shadow of a man propped up in the corner of the terrace where she now stood. 

"I would think, sir, that my business is my own. That I am not a man does not mean that I have no problems to trouble me."

"Indeed not. Did I ever imply such a thing? I merely asked what it was that troubled you. For I cannot rest with my own thoughts, and it would be good to hear another's instead of listening to myself over and over again."

A soft smile crossed her lips, "I beg your forgiveness then for my hasty reply."

"And it is freely given for I would not withhold it when asked by such a fair face."

"If you seek to flatter me, I assure you that you will not succeed. I am not given to swooning nor to love affairs with men with silver tongues."

"You misunderstand me; I only wish to know what troubles you. As for the compliment, I do not withdraw it, for to say otherwise would be lie. How you choose to interpret it is your own choice."

"And what if I choose to interpret it as an insult? What if I were to say that you do not see the person before you, but only the face?"

"Then I would say that you rob me of my pride, for I have attempted to see the person, yet she persists in only letting me see her face."

"You insult me now."

"And you have given me no choice. I have tried gentility, and you have avoided my questions. I am faced then with only the option of direct attack as diplomacy has obviously failed."

Eowyn laughed, "You are very persistent."

"In this case or in general?"

"I do not know you well enough to give opinion on the second."

"True enough, but again I must point out it is not for my lack of trying."

Eowyn sighed, "You would think me foolish to talk of my conflicts."

"I think of no one's conflicts as foolish. 'Life is not without its trials even to those who appear to have everything.' My brother said that once when I was a youth and complained that he could not understand what my troubles were."

"And did he understand your troubles when you told him?"

"More than that, he shared them. Perhaps he did not feel the same as I, but he did understand and help me with my burdens."

"This brother who shared your pain, he does not help you share your burdens now?"

"He may wish to, I do not know. My brother is dead, and I have no other to whom I can confide."

Eowyn was glad for the darkness as a faint blush of embarrassment flooded her cheeks.

"Forgive me, I did not know."

"Of course you did not know. I just told you. Do not worry. I will not tell your lapse of etiquette to your court. I shall swear it upon this lump of moss."

A shady hand reached out to pat the wall where a small group of lichens was happily growing unheeding of the potential doom surrounding the city.

Eowyn laughed despite herself, "Moss? Was your injury perhaps to the head?"

"Oh, you have a wicked tongue to poke fun of the injured."

"It is no less than what you have done in attempting to gain my confidence."

"Ah, but my goal was indeed noble; yours was one of amusement."

"Am I to repent of trying to find amusement? You would be a hypocrite to deny me it when you started this conversation with a supposed attempt to lighten my burden."

"When you put it that way? No. I suppose I should not deny you such a small moment of merriment when such dreadful nights have past and the future still lies uncertain. Is that what troubles you? The darkness that is not yet dispelled?"

"To say that it does not trouble me would be a lie, yet it is not that which keeps me up tonight. I am troubled by my own heart."

A short grunt accompanied a small movement for her shadowed companion as he shifted his weight from one leg to another.

"A matter of love then rests upon you."

A mocking laugh came from Eowyn's lips, "Does a woman ever have any other type of conflict?"

"If you say it to be so, I would have to defer to your greater experience, but I would not so lightly dismiss such a quandary. Besides, I would think that the Lady Eowyn would not be so simple as to be tormented by simple love affairs."

"You have me at a disadvantage sir, for you know my name, but I do not know yours."

"Would it make so very much difference if you knew it?"

"The sake of propriety demands it. I am, after all, alone with a strange man without my family to accompany me."

A small grunt issued from the shadows, "I assure you; I am in no position to be taking advantage of any lady, let alone one who fights as well as any man."

"You are injured then, more gravely than you pretend. You should not be out of bed, sir."

"Neither should you, but there you stand."

Eowyn shook her head, "I do not need the support of a wall to keep my body aright."

"Who says that I do?" The shadow rejoined.

"If you do not, then why do you not show yourself to me? Why do you hide your face in the shadow of a stone wall?"

A short silence was broken by a loud exhalation of air, "You have bested me at last. I dare not walk to where you are. My strength was weak when I ventured out here, and I have already tarried too long."

"You should be inside then, were you not going to ask for assistance?"

"As I said, I have conflicts of my own to bear. Faramir of Gondor has long been the weakest of his line. I dare not sully it further by such wretchedness. Better to lie here and die than to call pitifully for help, from man or woman."

"Lord Faramir," Eowyn gasped a little shocked, "I had thought by the way you were spoken of that you had a great deal more sense and a great deal less pride."

"I suppose that would be true, but I have disappointed my father greatly in his life. I would not do so in his death."

"And you plan to do this by asking not for help when you need it? That is a foolish thing indeed."

"If you truly think that, then I would suggest you speak what dwells on your mind, for your eyes betray that your mind is in much the same state as my body."

Eowyn shook her head, "You have made your point. I shall offer you a compromise. You allow me to take you back to your sickbed, and I shall speak with you tomorrow, should the sun rise and we not perish before then."

"Agreed," Faramir spoke softly.

So, Eowyn took his hand and guided his arm around her shoulders and together, they stumbled back to where his bed was miraculously arousing little curiosity from those around them.

As she turned to go, his hand reached out to grab her own.

"You will not break your promise will you, my lady?"

"I assure you; I will not."

With that, she bid him goodnight and walked slowly back to her own resting place strangely lighter in heart than she had been for many a day.


	2. 2

Well, this was originally going to be a one shot, but seems how I seem to have a few people who want me to continue… here is the second chapter.

Remember I don't own it, etc, etc. And this is an AU fic. Mostly inspired by the fact that the Houses of Healing scenes were left out of ROTK for the theatrical release, and I couldn't wait.

I do not pretend to write a better romance than what Tolkien did. This is just for general amusement purposes.

SO, you could call this a "movie" based fic with strong influences from the book.

Seems how this is supposed to be more movie based, Merry is not in the Houses of Healing as, if I recall correctly, he was with Aragorn and the others at the black gate.

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Eowyn glared at the rising sun. She closed her eyes tightly then opened them. Again, she saw the sun. It was hopeless. She was not dead, and she would wager a great deal on the fact that neither was Faramir, which meant, of course, that she would have to keep her promise to him.

She sighed and ran a brush through her hair. One could run around at night with unkempt hair and rumpled clothes, but to go about in such a state during the day was unpardonable. Ailing or not, she was the sister to the new king of Rohan. She cast a worried glance out the window. Hopefully she would not be becoming the new ruler of Rohan. Her brother, she had heard, was traveling with Aragorn to challenge the black gate.

She desperately wished that she could go with, but her inquisition towards the matter had been quickly rebuffed. She could not go. Worse than that, there was a good reason for her not to go. She was not physically capable to ride. Thus, she was condemned to wait upon the able bodied soldier who could ride, and hope that they returned alive.

Not, she thought to herself amused, that she had not found a pleasant diversion. Faramir's mind seemed to work in unusual ways. His gentle persistence intrigued her. Most other men would have become irritated at her for her evasion in the conversation. Faramir had simply backed up and tried another route until he succeeded in getting what he wanted.

With a martyred sigh, she moved towards her chamber doors. The instant that they creaked open, she was assaulted by two ladies who were charged with her care. Normally, Eowyn would have brushed them aside and insisted that she did not need their assistance, but today was unique. First of all, she wished to be able to leave her chambers with a minimum of complaints. That meant that she should simply comply with the wishes of her caretakers so she could gain their favor to do as she wished. Secondly, she perversely wished to look as radiant as possible for Lord Faramir.

The second point, she did not look closely into, for she was not sure that she wished to acknowledge what she found within.

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Faramir played with the hem of his tunic. The healers had taken one look at him and ordered him not to rise. His late night ventured had taken its toll on him. The energy he had had yesterday was not there as it had been. Fortunately, the healers did not inquire as to why a man who was able to walk about the day before was suddenly only able to sit up in his bed.

It was a great relief to him that they did not ask; for he was loathe to tell them he had been wandering around at night talking to beautiful strangers. A soft smile crossed his lips as he recalled how magnificent Lady Eowyn had looked as she stood pale against the night sky. His heart had pounded furiously at the sight, and he had been afraid that he was dying and seeing only a vision of what was to come after breath ceased in his body. It was that thought that had compelled him to speak to her. Her face had been sorely troubled, and a part of him had been afraid he had passed into a realm more troubled than the one that he had left.

It shamed him now that he had been so forward towards her. It was not normally in his character to be so bold. Boromir had always been the one to act impulsively. Faramir had always been the one to think very thoroughly before engaging in any sort of aggressive action.

The instant she had turned towards him, he had known that she was not some ethereal creature, but a real woman, yet he still persisted. He had not been able to overcome the intense desire to know her. It both awed and intrigued him that he could feel such passion that even now, of he closed his eyes and pictured her, his heart would stir and a thousand words seemed ready to burst forth from his lips.

The doors opened to his room, and his head snapped up instantly. His heart was not disappointed when he saw who was coming through to visit him.

"You remembered to come," Faramir's pleasure was evident in his voice.

Eowyn nodded, "Let it never be said of me that I go back on my word."

"I am glad that you came."

"And I am glad to hear it, for I am not allowed much movement in these halls and I should not wish to have wasted a trip," Eowyn rejoined as she sank into a small chair that was situated by Faramir's bed.

Faramir smiled in what he hoped was a friendly and somewhat charming manner, "I assure you, you have not. Though, if I recall correctly, you promised to share your burden with me."

Eowyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair, "Are you always this blunt?"

Faramir laughed, "Rarely, but you seem to bring it out in me."

Eowyn's face closed slightly, and Faramir berated himself. If only he could be more like his brother. Boromir had never had such problems with women. It was yet another point in which his brother truly was better than he.

"If I am too forward…" Faramir began to apologize.

Eowyn raised one eyebrow, "Now you ask such a question? After such a pursuit? Nay, I merely do not wish to think of that which bothers me, yet I cannot help but think of it. So, you see, it matters not whether you push me or stay quiet."

Faramir blushed slightly, "Forgive me, I always make such mistakes."

Eowyn cocked her head to one side and observed the man in his bed. He seemed so different in the light of day. The night before had shown a great deal of caring and gentle persistence. The morning showed a great deal of uncertainty on his part. It was as if he was unsure of his own life even though he was the Steward of Gondor itself.

"I fear that we are a matched pair then, for I often charge ahead and care not what others think. You though, if I may be so bold, seem to care too much for the opinions of others."

Faramir smiled wanly, "No, I have cared for only the regards of two people in my life. My brother gave his affection without regard. My father, though… my father I would rather not speak of, for it brings much pain no matter how I view him."

Eowyn nodded, "There are some things that are best not spoken until one has the courage to do so. You, Faramir of Gondor, have given me the courage to speak of such things."

"I would not equate my inquisitiveness with giving courage, but you honor me with your words."

Eowyn shook her head, "Never have I lacked the courage to join a battle, but it takes a different sort of courage to speak one's thoughts. You have shown only the greatest regard for my wellbeing though you know me but a little. It has given me the courage that I lacked."

Faramir grinned, "Perhaps you should wish to speak then?"

Eowyn nodded, "I will should you ever be able to silence your mouth for a time."

Faramir put on his best affronted face, but his grin ruined it, and he gestured for her to continue.

Eowyn took a deep breath and began. 

"Long have I been tormented by two desires. At first, I thought my distress to be only the symptom of being unable to fulfill one desire: the desire to defend my country as any man would. But now that I have accomplished this goal, I find that I am still in anguish. For my soul wishes for both the honor of a warrior and the love of another to fill my days, yet I cannot have both as no man would wish for his wife to be a warrior. It is a silly problem I know…"

Faramir raised his hand to quiet her, "There is nothing foolish with such a problem. It speaks strongly of your soul that you wish such a thing. Do you not think that I have struggled also with such a burden? Long have I wished for peace and love, but Gondor was at war, and I was one of her captains. I was conflicted greatly, and none but my brother cared to know my plight. What you wish is not a weakness, Lady Eowyn, but it is a strength of heart that you should wish to love both your people and have a lover of your own."

Eowyn blushed and looked away, "You give me more credit than I deserve. I am more selfish than you make me."

"It is not selfish to desire that which would benefit another."

Eowyn smiled lightly at him, "I thank you for your kind words. I would talk more, but the healers said I could only visit you for a short time, and I think I hear them scuttling in the halls."

Faramir nodded, "I shall see you tomorrow then. Perhaps, they will allow us to travel the gardens if I am in good enough health."

Eowyn looked at him laying in his bed, "I thought you were not an ambitious man."

"I am not, but faced with such a prospect as walking with the fair Lady of Rohan, I find I am not quite myself."

Eowyn blushed as she turned and went out the door. The Steward of Gondor unsettled her like no other. She would need to devote some time to pondering whether that was a good thing or a bad.


	3. 3

Hmm, this is another short chapter. I think I'm going to do one more after this so they can get engaged etc.

First chapter = disclaimers.

SperryDee: Yes, I do remember you. How are you?  I'm glad you like my new fic.

For the rest of you, thank you so much for the kind reviews. You're really the best.

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Faramir awoke the next morning with unbridled enthusiasm. Why, he could not say, for the whole of Middle Earth could face destruction at any moment. Yet he could not curb his happiness such as it was. A small smile quirked across his lips as a vision of golden hair floated on the wind in his mind's eye.

If he was to be honest with himself, he was smitten. He was smitten beyond hope of redemption, and he had chosen to do it at what was quite possibly the worst point in time to become infatuated.

Faramir chuckled silently. He was not usually a person who would be so contrary to the normal rules of society. He had always been the good, a quiet son. Boromir would have laughed to see his brother fall in love when the possibility that Middle Earth would fall into utter despair was looming on the horizon.

Faramir sighed as he looked down at his hands. Along that path lay two subjects he was not certain that he was willing to think on. One was the contemplation of whether or not he had truly fallen in love with the Lady of Rohan, and the other was the contemplation of what had become of his family. Both subjects could bring their own grief, for to think upon his father and brother's death would bring great sadness, and to think upon Lady Eowyn would bring distress at the thought that she might not feel the same as he.

Faramir picked sullenly at his coverlet. He had woken in such good humor only to fall into glum thinking. Boromir had often teased him as child when he had begun to think too deeply. Boromir had always been the one to cajole Faramir into better spirits when their father had been harsh. And Faramir had often been the one who soothed his brother's temper; he had talked Boromir out of many confrontations.

Faramir glanced out the window and smiled sadly in remembrance. Most of the fights he had talked Boromir out of were when Boromir had felt the need to protect his little brother, and not a few of them had been fights he had planned to pick with their own father.

A polite knock at his door roused him from his own musings.

"Lord Faramir, are you awake?" the healer asked through the door.

"Yes, do come in," Faramir replied with some of his earlier vigor. The sooner he was done with the healer, the sooner he could be on his way to meet with Eowyn.

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Eowyn strolled calmly through the halls out to the point in the gardens that she had been instructed to go. Her heart pounded against her chest in stark constrast to her even pace. Why she should be nervous about a meeting with Faramir, she did not know. She was not certain she wished to know. 

He was a handsome enough man, she supposed. He was particularly handsome when his lips quirked into a small grin…

Her mouth opened and closed as her body halted in mid stride. She had not just thought such a thing. It was indeed improper for a lady of Rohan to think such things once over a certain age. She was no longer a child who could indulge in romantic notions. The reality of life was hard. Strength and honor and courage were what a woman should seek in a mate. It did not matter what sort of smile he had.

Forcing the foolish thought back where it belonged, she resumed her walk.

A short time later, she found herself standing in front of a very well groomed Steward of Gondor.

"You look better today, my lord," She nodded towards Faramir who was sitting on a small bench.

Faramir smiled, "Do I indeed? Perhaps it was the promise of today that brought me new strength."

"Do you intend to vex me? For if I accuse you of trying to flatter me, you will only say that the prospect of the gardens brought you here, yet if I assume that it is the gardens of which you speak, you will chide me for not counting myself as equal to the gardens," Eowyn bantered back.

Faramir's smile grew wider, "Ah, you wound me by such accusations. For I meant both the gardens and my company, for I cannot elevate one above the other."

"I knew it! Your words were a trap to see if you could foil me with your wit," Eowyn smiled triumphantly.

Faramir sighed, "You may think what you wish, but as for me the sun is shining and I do not wish to waste either the beauty of the gardens or the beauty of my companion on a quarrel. So, I cede to you."

Eowyn nodded, "I accept your cessation."

Faramir looked slightly shocked, "What you accept my surrender under such terms as I gave?"

Eowyn nodded, "I am no vain lady. I have won a victory, Lord Faramir, I am not proud as to the exact stipulation. A slain Orc is a slain Orc whether by sword or by pitchfork."

Faramir sighed theatrically, "I am a wretched man, for I have just been compared to an Orc with a pitchfork thrust through him."

Eowyn could not help but laugh lightly at his antics.

Faramir stopped and stared intently at her.

"What?" She asked uncomfortably.

"I do not think I have heard so beautiful a sound in many ages as what I have just heard," Faramir responded earnestly.

Eowyn looked away, "It is nothing beautiful for I am not truly joyous."

"You do not believe in tragic beauty then?" Faramir queried as he rose from the bench to take her arm in his own.

"I do not find anything beautiful in death. Such ties as these can show strength and even love, but beauty does not shine upon them," Eowyn replied.

"Perhaps not, but beauty does shine all the more radiantly against it. Perhaps when sullied by grief, beauty is no longer as pure as it once was, but it can become deeper and truer. Tragic beauty is not beautiful because of the ill that has befallen it. It is attractive because it still shines. It is striking because it has a chance at redemption. It has faced the grimness of the world and still does not die," Faramir spoke quietly, yet earnestly.

Eowyn blushed, "You could have been a poet, sir."

Faramir laughed himself, "Indeed I could have, but my brother had a terrible habit of whining whenever I went off on a romantic bent, and I lost time for practicing the craft."

Eowyn smiled, "My brother would run in shame whenever I pulled out my sword."

"Oh? He did not think you should pursue your blade?"

Eowyn sneaked a glance over at Faramir, "No, I beat him in a duel once. I used to threaten to tell the entire court about it."

Faramir chuckled, "It seems then, that we are a matched pair. Perhaps you could teach me needlework?"

Eowyn slapped him lightly on his arm, "You should not jest about such things. People might hear you."

"I doubt very much that my reputation is in any danger for mention of sewing. I have had to mend enough of my own garments when I was out in the wilds. Besides, Boromir used to embroider his own tunics."

A shocked look crossed Eowyn's face, "Surely not."

Faramir shook his head, "I tell the truth. He was excessively picky about how his shirts were done. Once there was a new seamstress, and her work was poor. Boromir had such a fit that he learned to do his own needle work and would redo any stitching he did not like. I never really understood it myself. He usually soiled them in some battle or another, or tore them. But for the first time he wore it, it had to be perfect."

"You miss him, do you not?" Eowyn asked quietly.

Faramir nodded, "It is strange, I think, that I should remember my brother more fondly than I do my father."

"I do not qualify to assess you on that point. For my own parents I have little recollection of and my brother still lives. If I were to choose, I would say that I mourn the passing of my uncle more than of Theodred, but they are not equal. Theodred has been dead for some time and my uncle died before my very eyes. They are two very separate things," Eowyn replied.

Faramir stopped walking and stared at the darkness of Mordor, "All our grieving may all come to naught if Frodo does not succeed."

Eowyn sighed, "Would that I could have gone with them. My window does not even show the view, and much of my heart lies with those who have gone."

Faramir looked tenderly upon her face, "Even if I could, I would not bid you to such a place, but such as within my power I can grant you the second request."

Eowyn's eyes lit in thanks and she turned to watch the darkness again, and they said nor more 'til they parted.


	4. 4

Disclaimers in chapter 1.

Well, let's see about one year to finish one chapter... What?

Very well then. As a reminder this is AU movie-verse some line blatantly taken from the book and mangled to fit my own little bit of fic.

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For a few days, Faramir continued to meet with Eowyn in much the same manner as before. Always it was a stroll through the gardens, barren as they were due to the neglect cause by war. Always they did end up staring at the darkness or Mordor. Eowyn seemed to take some type of comfort from it, but all Faramir felt was that the darkness accompanied his own spirits.

He was not by nature a morose person. Yet when he saw Eowyn stare so avidly at the looming darkness, he could feel his very heart develop tiny cracks in its shell of hope. He was entranced by her to the point of wishing to see nothing else, but she did not return such favor to him. In her mind, his importance was listed somewhere below the darkness, but this was not what bothered him.

That the efforts of man came before his own happiness, he was used to as it had been so for much of his life. Those who called Gondor home in his generation had not known what it was like to live without the threat of shadow. Always had Boromir put the cause of Gondor first place, and this had never bothered Faramir. Faramir himself had always put the needs of Gondor before his own interests.

He supposed that he could easily dismiss the thoughts by saying that it was not the same situation. Boromir, beloved as he was by his brother, did not have the same sway over a heart as a lover would. It was a different type of love, surely that would account for Faramir's new worries.

But in his heart, Faramir new that that was not what truly troubled him when Eowyn stared out at the darkness. To trouble him more was the fact that he was not by nature a dishonest man. He found it hard to lie, even to himself and even when he desperately wished to do so.

The truth of the matter was that he could not bear the thought that her heart already belonged to another.

Faramir had heard whispered rumors of her favor towards Aragorn. The men of Rohan were discreet in their talking, but injured men cooped up in the Houses of Healing had to do something to ease the discomfort of waiting, and Eowyn was the perfect subject upon which they could spend much time expounding.

And Faramir could not help but listen to whatever was spoken. In the same breath he had both listened to the words of men and cursed his ears and ability to hear those whispers. For the words that poured out of innocent men's lips had slowly thrust a dagger into his own heart.

With trepidation, he had continued to woo the fair maiden of Rohan with his own gentle ways. Hoping for the chance that the wildness that was ascribed to her people would be attracted to the genteel ways of his own constitution, he constantly looked at her countenance for any sign that she was as besieged with the feelings of helpless love for him that he felt for her.

The defeat of Sauron could be seen from the White City and indeed was viewed by Eowyn and Faramir as they took their accustomed walk in the gardens.

When the initial burst of joy had flooded through Faramir's bones, a distinct nervousness quickly followed. Soon those who remained of the troops would be coming home. Those who remained of Rohan would come, and the King of Gondor, if he yet lived, would also return. Faramir had naturally begun the preparations for the return of Gondor's King as befit his position as Steward, but his nervousness was for another reason.

He would soon declare his love for the golden haired maiden. He would soon know whether his heart would sing of joy or whether it would be forever sing a mournful song of loss. He would live through such a disappointment, but it would change his life. There was no doubt in his heart that he would never again love another as he loved Eowyn.

There was no person that could replace Boromir as his brother. In turn, there was no person that could replace Eowyn. For though he had known her but a short time, as far as life went, he loved her more dearly than he had ever loved another.

With a deep breath, Faramir turned and strode form his room to go and meet Eowyn in their accustomed place. Today would be the day. This hour would be the time of his sentencing. For soon, she would judge him to either love her or to spend the rest of his life pining from afar.

Eowyn shivered from the cold wind that blew through the gardens. There were other matters to which she should be attending, no doubt, yet she still waited for Faramir.

She was not disappointed when she felt his warm hand lay upon her shoulder.

"You are late, my lord," Eowyn spoke with a teasing tone in her voice.

"Only because of a great task I must complete." Faramir's answer was more solemn than her statement had been, so Eowyn turned to face him.

"Something troubles you?" She asked with more gentleness than was her normal way.

"Yes and no. I believe you would find my mind confused at the moment," Faramir tried to say lightly.

"Do you wish to share your burden?"

"More than anything, I would wish it, but I tremble with fear at the thought of it."

Eowyn smiled and placed her hand on his arm. "You need not fear me."

"I wish that it was truth that came from your lips, but by the very nature of my concern, it cannot be."

Eowyn tilted her head to one side clearly confused.

Faramir cleared his voice and continued. "I do not fear you, but rather I fear what your reaction maybe, for on it hangs my future happiness. Yet I am vexed either way, for I know not whether it is more torturous to know or to not know, yet have hope…"

"Your speech puzzles me, Lord Faramir. I am not used to such riddles from you. Speak plainly to me of what troubles you. I think I do not have it in me to be harsh towards anything you say."

Faramir moaned and looked down at his hands. "Harsh you will not be to me, I do not doubt that, but sometimes the softest answer still brings pain."

"Now I am the one who is vexed, for I can think of nothing that I could say to bring you such pain. Indeed, if there was such an answer to any question, I would endeavor to keep it from you."

"No," Faramir said harshly, "I would not wish a deceitful answer in this no matter how much I may wish to hear it. It is better to bear such pain myself than to know that you live in misery because you wished to spare my feelings."

"Then I swear that I will be honest with you even if it should pain you, for I do not wish to see such worry mar your features when such hope lay before our peoples."

Faramir nodded then let his gaze wander out over the now bright landscape. Gone were the shadows. Gondor was fortunate. Would its Steward see such fortune in confronting his own shadows?

"I would say that you are beautiful, but to say such an obvious thing would be pointless. Long and often have been our talks, but of one subject I have been most afraid, for if your heart is no longer your own, if your heart has become the property of another's I shall be forever dismayed."

Eowyn turned and stared off in the distance. "Why should you wish to know the workings of my heart?"

"Because my own is in peril, for I have lost it to you. Eowyn, do not you love me, or will you not?"

Eowyn turned quickly to stare defiantly at him. "I desire no man's pity. I wish to be loved, but your method of asking me is disturbing. You have heard rumors of my love for the King and as his Steward you wish to sacrifice yourself for him, no doubt. You have no need of such worries. I no longer wish to be a queen."

As she turned to stalk past him, his hand shot out to grasp her own.

"Then it is a good thing that I am not a king," he whispered softly.

Eowyn hesitated and looked into his eyes.

Gathering his courage, Faramir spoke again. "I would have you as my wife, if it be your will."

"You would have me leave my own people? You would dismay your own and listen to the murmurs of disapproval that you chose so wild a woman who chose a blade instead of a sewing needle?"

"I would."

"Oh," Eowyn felt her heart begin to pound at the thought.

"Forgive me for my insistence, but I had wished for something a bit more revealing in your response," Faramir spoke lightly as he tried to balance his surge of hope with the possibility that she may not love him.

She smiled radiantly at him. "There is no other who would capture my heart as you have done. No other man shall ever know me as you do, and I would be the most foolish of women to deny us both such happiness."

"Then you will be mine?" he asked softly as he stepped closer to her.

"I would," she replied softly as she tilted her head slightly and brushed her lips against his own, and both hearts rejoiced.

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The End.


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